


Good morning, sweetheart

by Miss_Kitten



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 15:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12390588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Kitten/pseuds/Miss_Kitten
Summary: You enjoy a lazy morning with Dwalin and your children.





	Good morning, sweetheart

Bright rays of morning sun sneak through heavy curtains and shine onto your face. You wrinkle your nose, turning to your side to nuzzle into a warm, solid body, seeking more sleep.

A soft grunt meets you, and strong arms grip around your frame tighter. However, the slumber is long gone – the light have rouse you and there is no way you can back to sleep now.

You let out a huff, but don’t move even a bit. If you as much as flinch, the cuddle bear beside you will be awake and he needs as much as he can get. Being the head of training new recruits and the Captain of Erebor’s army, Dwalin has more duties that you’d like him to.

Yet, he always come home for dinner. Every day, despite waking up at dawn and coming back at dusk, Dwalin takes a break to eat a meal with you and your two little rascals.

Your daughter, Lote, the younger, always eagerly awaits by the door for her father to step in, and throws herself into his arms, as if she hasn’t seen him for a month. She’s got Dwalin wrapped around her tiny finger but you don’t mind. You love watching your husband doing things you’d never thought he would for her. Gather the pinkest flowers he can get and then make a wreath for her? If Lote wants, Dwalin will do everything to fulfill her wish.

Dwagu, your first-born, is a bit more reserved, just as his father. Dwalin adores him, with all his heart and you know your son is very much aware of it.

They still young, barely 10 years old. Three years between them, but your son and daughter are as close as twins and you hope it will stay like this for their whole life.

“Are they up?” a quiet, raspy whisper comes from above your head and you feel a kiss pressed to the crown of your head.

“I don’t think so,” you answer as quietly. There are two doors separating you from your children’s room but somehow they manage to figure out when the two of you are awake, or when you’re about to start enjoying each other when Dwalin gets back home earlier.

“You don’t need to get up?” you ask after a moment of silence and tilt your head to look at Dwalin. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, his face relaxed, a small smirk ghosting over his lips.

“I’ve got a day off, sweetheart. Thought I told ye?”

“It probably slipped my mind.”

“Well, ye were busy with somethin’ else, if I recall correctly,” he teases cheekily and you giggle, a delightful soreness still present between your legs.

“I sure was, my dear husband. Although, care to refresh my memory?” you taunt and before you can register what’s happening, Dwalin flips you onto your back, hovering above you with very much awake and very much lustful gaze.

“Aye, my beautiful wife. I will gladly refresh-“

“Papa!” a tiny voice bellows, the sound of feet scurrying nears the door and seconds after Dwalin props himself against the headboard, it opens and Lote storms in, Dwagu hot on her feet.

“He’s tickling me!”

You suppress a sigh and a roll of your eyes as Lote climbs onto your bed and settles on Dwalin’s lap, a sad, hurt expression etched on her little face.

“Dwagu,” Dwalin begins while your son slowly climbs next to you, and you open your arms as an invitation for cuddles. As much as Dwagu claims he’s already too old for hugs with Mama, he never refused when you initiate them.

Now’s no different as he readily lays his head on your chest, your arms wrapped around his chubby body.

“She bit my ear because I didn’t wake up when she wanted me to ,” your son mumbles and you kiss his head, looking at your daughter sternly.

“Lote, what did I tell you about biting your brother?”

“That it’s bad.”

“And?”

“And that I need to stop doing it.”

“And you promised me you will,” you quirk up a brow and Lote lowers her head, pouting.

Dwalin heaves out a sight, reaching to rise your daughter’s chin with his fingers.

“My little sunflower, you need to listen to your mother. And now, to make up for hurting your brother, let’s go make breakfast. Al right?”

“Yes, Da!” she claps her hands and Dwalin grins, gathering your little girl into his arms and heading to the kitchen. You smile brightly at him as he tosses you a wink, turning your attention to Dwagu once your husband and daughter are out.

“Did she bite you hard?”

“No, just a little.”

“Do you want me to kiss it better?” you ask softly and Dwagu looks at you, utterly offended.

“Ma, I’m not a baby,” he says matter-of-factly but you only raise your brows. Eventually he nods, and you gladly bring your lips to his ear, pressing a kiss to reddened flesh. He nuzzles into your embrace further, both of you remaining silent while you listen to a merry chatter and laughter coming from the kitchen.

“Da made pancakes!” Lote announces proudly as she jumps onto the bed, taking a spot in the middle while Dwalin carefully balances a tray full of said food, slowly stepping to the bed.

He places it between you and his previous spot, right in front of Lote, who quite literally begins to devour the meal, forgoing a plate. Dwagu puts a few of pancakes on a plate and hands it to you, then second one to Dwalin.

You beam with happiness as you watch the scene in front of you, your heart swelling with joy.

“Dwalin,” you mutter between one bite and another and your husband shifts his gaze at you. Meanwhile, Lote steals one of his pancakes.    

“Aye, Y/N?”

“Any chance you remember when you put that old cradle?”

“It should be somewhere-“ he gasps, his eyes growing wide as his falls agape. He slides his gaze at your stomach, a question is his eyes and you only nod, chewing last slice of your meal.

A fork clatters onto the plate as it falls from Dwalin’s hand and in next moment you are squished to his chest, Lote, luckily, having escaped the possible squeezing to death.

“What’s happening?! What Ma did?!” she questions as she stares at Dwalin peppering your face with hundreds of kisses. You can hear Dwagu’s chuckle and an amusement in his voice when he answers.

“I think Ma’s pregnant.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’ll have a sister or brother.”

“Ma, really?!”

“Yes, honey,” you say and burst into laughter when Lote cheers loudly. Soon, both of your children sneak between you and Dwalin, Lote still asking question after a question, her brother replying patiently.

Dwalin cradles your face in his hands, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes full of love and adoration.

“Thank you, amralime.”  


End file.
